Too Soon
by Deana
Summary: A mission to blow up a bridge is anything but typical this time, when something terrible unexpectedly happens that shakes Newkirk to the core.
1. Unexpected Consequence

**Too Soon**  
A Hogan's Heroes story  
By Deana Lisi

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody but my two cats. I don't even own the idea for this story, which was given to me by Bits and Pieces!

This story takes place during season one, when Newkirk looked so adorably young. LOL

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Newkirk glanced around in the dark, his gun at the ready. A *plink* sounded behind him, and he turned around to look at Carter, who was placing explosives under a bridge. With a soundless sigh, Newkirk scanned the landscape again, alert for anything. He couldn't see Hogan in the dark, but he knew that the colonel stood further away from the bridge, ensuring that no German soldiers took Newkirk and Carter by surprise.

Suddenly, Carter was beside him, sticking tools in his pockets. "All done," he whispered.

"About bloody time," Newkirk whispered back. "Go." He watched as Carter ran ahead of him, before he looked around again, and followed.

_*clop, clop, clop*_

The sudden odd sound made Newkirk stop and turn around, and he was barely able to make out a shadow running across the doomed bridge. He stared in shock at the sight for a few seconds, but before he could do anything, the world exploded in his face.

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What seemed like seconds later, Newkirk opened his eyes and blinked up at the sky, stunned. He couldn't understand why he was lying on the ground, before he spotted small fires encompassing what remained of the bridge. He suddenly realized that a voice was calling his name, but it sounded far away.

Carefully, Newkirk turned over and tried to get to his knees, but his hand touched what felt like fabric, and he blinked his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Lying beside him was a young girl.

Newkirk just stared, realizing that she was dead. His heart plummeted down into his stomach when he realized that she'd been crossing the bridge as it'd blown up…what was a child so young doing outside so late, and why did the explosives go off too soon!

Suddenly, hands were grabbing him, and Colonel Hogan was peering into his face. "Newkirk!" he said. "Are you all right?"

Newkirk didn't answer, his mind reeling over the senseless death of the little girl.

Abruptly, Carter appeared and plopped to his knees beside Hogan, and Newkirk felt a panicked urgency to stop Carter from seeing the body, knowing that his friend would blame himself for her death. He fumbled to his feet with Hogan helping him, and stumbled away, hoping that the darkness would hide from his friends the atrocity that they'd accidentally committed that night.

Voices spoke, but if they were speaking to him, Newkirk didn't notice. His ears were ringing painfully from the sound of the bridge's explosion—they'd been much too close to it when the bombs had gone off, and he wondered if Carter and Hogan were similarly affected. _Maybe not,_ he thought. _I stopped walkin' when I 'eard someone comin'…oh blimey, we killed a little girl…we killed a little girl!_

Suddenly, hands were urgently pulling him down to the ground where all three of them crouched; Hogan was looking around as if he'd heard something, before he looked at Newkirk with a frown.

Wordlessly, Hogan pointed to his own ears and shot the Englishman a questioned look. It was obvious that he was asking Newkirk if the explosion had affected his hearing.

Newkirk nodded, before wondering if Hogan would take that as 'yes, I can't hear very well' or 'yes, my hearing is fine'. Nodding his head made him dizzy, and he wondered if his eardrums had ruptured.

Hogan apparently understood correctly, for he took hold of Newkirk's arm before looking around again, seeking the cause of whatever sound he had heard. Eventually, he stood, and pulled Newkirk along as they rushed back to the Stalag.

Newkirk had never been so glad to be 'home', and he quickly climbed down the ladder, and all-but collapsed on the nearby bench.

Carter plopped down next to him, and Newkirk saw that his friend had some scratches on one side of his face, probably from hitting the ground after the explosion. Breathing heavily, Newkirk closed his eyes and painfully listened to the high-pitched whine that was blasting through his head.

Hands touched his shoulders, and he opened his eyes to see Hogan again.

"Can you hear me at all?" Hogan asked, looking worried.

Newkirk nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak, with the image of the dead girl still fresh in his mind. He closed his eyes without realizing it, reopening them when a stab of pain unexpectedly laced through his left arm.

"You need stitches," he barely heard Hogan say.

Looking down, he found that his black shirt had a long rip in the sleeve…a sleeve that was drenched with blood. His mind and body had felt numb up until now, after seeing the consequences of their sabotage, but now, his mind started to clear and he winced at the pain.

Hogan retrieved their extensive first aid kit, courtesy of London, and wrapped a towel around his arm before plopping it into Carter's hands. He said something that was too soft for Newkirk's ringing ears to decipher, before heading up into the barracks.

"I'm sorry, Newkirk," Carter suddenly said, as he kept pressure on Newkirk's injury. "I don't know why the bombs went off early!"

After what he'd seen those explosives do, Newkirk's mind was unable to come up with a sarcastic retort, so he didn't answer, letting Carter assume that he couldn't hear him.

Hogan came back down into the tunnel with Kinch behind him, and together, the two of them took care of Newkirk and Carter's injuries.

Newkirk couldn't help but see the intense worry on the colonel's face, over the situation with his hearing. Hogan had noticed that Newkirk hadn't spoken a single word since the explosion, and he assumed it was because the Englishman couldn't hear anything. In truth, Newkirk could hear sounds and voices through the ringing, but he couldn't distinguish the words unless the speaker spoke louder for his benefit.

The real reason for his silence lay unmoving on the ground near the bridge.

Finally, Hogan had finished stitching up Newkirk's arm and bandaged it, before looking into the Englishman's face. "Can you hear what I'm saying?"

Newkirk nodded.

Hogan frowned, wondering again why Newkirk remained silent, so Newkirk tried to banish the girl from his mind. "Not very…" he frowned when he barely heard himself. "Not very loudly," he told him.

Hogan looked on either side of Newkirk's head to see if his ears were bleeding, and thankfully found nothing. "How do they feel?" he loudly asked.

Newkirk closed his eyes. "They're ringin' like there's no tomorrow."

Hogan sighed. "Since you can still hear, that probably means that they'll recover. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"What?" Newkirk said, reopening his eyes.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Hogan repeated, louder.

Newkirk had several places that were sore, and knew that he'd have a lot of bruises the next morning. He shrugged. "Not really."

Hogan understood the non-answer. He looked over at Carter and Kinch, who were watching quietly. "Let's get some sleep. Hopefully you'll be better in the morning, Newkirk."

"What?"

"Go to bed," Hogan said, louder. He stood and took Newkirk's uninjured arm, helping him off the bench, before gesturing for Kinch and Carter to go up first.

"Colonel?" Newkirk suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

Newkirk hesitated. He suddenly realized that Hogan should remain unaware about the child's death too…being in command; Hogan would probably feel just as responsible as Carter.

"Yeah, Newkirk?" Hogan said louder, thinking that the Englishman hadn't heard him.

Newkirk looked away. "Nothin'. Nevermind."

Before Hogan could say anything else, Newkirk climbed one-handed up the ladder. Hogan climbed after him, and watched as Newkirk laid on Carter's bunk, after seeing that Carter had taken the top bunk out of concern for Newkirk's arm. He headed over to the Englishman and tapped him on the shoulder, before saying into his ear, "Aren't you going to change?"

Newkirk was aware that he was still wearing his black clothes. He nodded in reply.

Hogan remained there for another few seconds, extremely aware that Newkirk was acting very strange. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"What?"

"Is something wrong?" he repeated, hoping that his non-whispers weren't waking any of the barracks' other occupants.

"No, Colonel. I'm okay…this ringin' is givin' me a right-nasty 'eadache, that's all," he said, not even lying as he brought up his right hand to rub his forehead.

"Need help?"

"No, I'm just gonna lay 'ere for a few minutes first."

Hogan nodded. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

"What?"

Hogan sighed. "I said, I'll be in my room if you need me," he repeated, closer to Newkirk's ear.

"Oh. Thanks."

Hogan squeezed his shoulder and headed into his quarters.

Suddenly, Carter popped his head over the bunk and looked down at him. "Need anything, Newkirk?" he asked, feeling responsible.

"What?"

Carter hopped down and knelt beside him. "Need anything?" he repeated.

_If only 'e knew..._Newkirk thought. "No, Andrew, I'm okay," he said, hoping that his smile was convincing. "Go ta sleep."

Carter looked unsure. "Okay. Wake me up if you need me," he said, before hopping back up.

With a sigh, Newkirk laid there quietly for a few minutes, straining his ears in the hope that he'd be able to tell when Carter fell asleep. Eventually, he sat up and got off the bunk, peering at his friend. "Carter?" he whispered…or at least he hoped he did, since he said it too soft to hear himself.

He received no reply. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he then crept over to Kinch's bunk and shook his shoulder.

Their radioman opened his eyes. "Newkirk? What is it?" he whispered.

Newkirk didn't hear a single word. "I need ya ta 'elp me with somethin', Kinch," he said.

Kinch pushed back his blankets and got up, following Newkirk over to the tunnel. They opened it and went down, before Newkirk looked at him with a sigh.

"Somethin' 'appened tonight at that bridge," Newkirk told him. He sat on the bench near the stump ladder, looking sad.

Kinch didn't speak, figuring that his friend wouldn't hear him anyway.

Newkirk sighed and lowered his head, raising his right hand to cover his eyes. He was suddenly unable to get the words out.

Kinch frowned, concerned, and sat beside him. "What happened?" he asked, hoping that he said it loudly enough.

"We…" Newkirk looked up at him, and sighed again. "We killed someone."

Kinch blinked. That wasn't exactly unusual, in their line of work.

Newkirk shook his head. "Ya don't understand. It was a…a child. A little girl."

Kinch's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Newkirk lowered his head again. "I 'eard the sound of walkin', an' turned to see 'er runnin' across the bridge just before it blew up." He stopped and took a breath. "The next time I opened me eyes, I was lyin' on the ground…an' she was next to me…dead. She only looked…" he swallowed the lump in his throat and had to hold his breath for a few seconds. "She only looked six or seven years old," he whispered, hoarsely.

Kinch was stunned. Shaking his head, he sympathetically grasped his friend's arm. "Oh, Newkirk."

Newkirk didn't hear him. "I need ya to come back to the bridge with me…we gotta bury 'er…we can't just leave 'er there."

Kinch nodded.

"I didn't wanna tell anyone," Newkirk said. "I woulda done it meself, but bein' unable to 'ear much, an' with me arm like this…"

Kinch squeezed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Newkirk. Of course I'll help you."

"No you won't."

Kinch looked up, to see Hogan enter the room. "Colonel?"

Hogan walked over, noticing that the Englishman hadn't heard him speak. He hadn't gone to bed, and had heard the tunnel open. Suspecting that Newkirk was the one who'd opened it—since he hadn't believed him when he'd said that nothing was wrong—he'd followed him down the ladder, and had heard everything.

With a sigh, he sat down beside Newkirk, who was slightly startled to see him there. "Why didn't you tell me?" he loudly asked.

Newkirk sighed. "I didn't want ya or Carter ta know…it would break 'is 'eart ta pieces, an' you, sir…bein' in command, I didn't want ya ta blame yaself either."

Hogan sighed again; unable to deny the utter horror he'd felt when he'd heard Newkirk explain to Kinch what had happened. "I admit to being upset over this, Newkirk, but I was forced to learn a long time ago that during wartime, a lot of innocent people die, whether we like it or not. Even though you feel that this is our fault, you have to realize that we couldn't have anticipated something like this."

Newkirk looked away. "I know, sir, I know…but ya didn't see…ya didn't see 'er _alive_…she was alive one minute, an' dead the next. The bombs went off too soon, Colonel!" He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Hogan squeezed his shoulder before looking at Kinch. "I'll go with Newkirk. You can go back to bed."

Kinch nodded. He patted Newkirk's arm since he probably wouldn't hear him say 'goodnight', and went back up into the barracks. As he climbed back into his bunk, he heard Carter mumble to himself in his sleep, and was immensely relieved that he, at least, had been spared the horrible knowledge of what had happened…

TBC


	2. Paying Respects

Hogan looked at Newkirk, with a sigh. "Come on," he said. "You're right, that we should do this before the Germans find her."

"It's not even that, Colonel," Newkirk said. "We need to do this because she would still be alive right now, if we 'adn't bombed that bridge."

Hogan said nothing.

A few minutes later, they were climbing out of the tunnel stump. Newkirk carried a shovel, and Hogan a gun, with his other hand wrapped around Newkirk's arm, knowing that the corporal wouldn't hear the possible approach of danger until it was too late.

It seemed to take forever to reach the bridge again, but when they did, Newkirk led Hogan to the site. He dropped the shovel and wordlessly knelt by the body.

Hogan did the same, and together, they paid their respects to the child whose life had ended too soon.

Finally, the colonel stood, walked to a nearby tree, and started to dig.

Newkirk barely heard the sound of the shovel. Eventually unable to look at the little girl anymore, he closed his eyes and waited for Hogan to finish.

The colonel came back a short time later, and knelt, to lift her, but Newkirk put out his hand to stop him. He slid his own arms under the small body—despite Hogan's protests about his injury—and stood, carrying her over to the hole that Hogan had dug. He knelt and gently placed her inside, before standing again, taking the shovel, and pushing the dirt back in, ignoring the pain that laced through his arm.

Hogan held back from taking the shovel away immediately, understanding that Newkirk wanted to have a hand in this. After a minute or two, he wordlessly took it from him, and finished the job.

The walk back to the Stalag was silent…neither of them knowing quite what to say. Hogan opened the stump and let Newkirk in first, before he climbed in himself and headed down the ladder. Once he stepped off, he looked at the Englishman, who was sitting on the bench, looking depressed. He walked over and sat beside him, taking Newkirk's injured arm and pushing up the sleeve, wanting to ensure that he hadn't injured it further.

Newkirk watched as Hogan removed the bandage. The five-inch-long slice looked angry and red, and he wondered what on earth had hit him when the bridge had exploded.

Hogan was relieved to see that the stitches were still holding. "You're lucky you didn't make it worse," he said, hopefully loud enough for the Englishman to hear.

Newkirk sighed, remembering the feel of the small, cold body within his arms. Suddenly, his eyes welled up and a tear escaped before he could stop it. He quickly wiped it away before Hogan could see it, but when he looked at the colonel, he saw that it was too late. Embarrassed, he looked away.

"There's no reason to be ashamed, Newkirk," Hogan said, as he rewrapped the corporal's arm. "Everyone cries."

"Not me, guv," Newkirk said, even though he knew that he was lying. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm actin' like Carter…'e's the emotional one."

_You're more emotional than you'd ever admit,_ Hogan thought, thinking back to Newkirk's outbursts over particularly impossible tasks, and each time Newkirk had been worried about his 'mates' when they were late coming back from a mission…each time he'd been protective over his friends, putting himself in danger to ensure the other's safety... "What happened to you today is not something that only an overly-emotional person would react to, Newkirk," he said. "If I'd been in your shoes, I would feel the same way that you do."

Newkirk sighed and looked at the floor.

Hogan finished with the bandage and pulled Newkirk's sleeve back down. "I think it's time we headed to bed."

Newkirk looked back up. "What?"

Hogan realized that he'd forgotten to speak up. "Time for bed," he said, louder. "Roll call is in a few hours, and you need to rest."

Newkirk knew that to be true; his ears were still ringing, making his head throb. Wordlessly, he changed back into his RAF uniform and they went upstairs, where Newkirk sat on Carter's empty bunk.

"Try to get some sleep," Hogan said into his ear. "If you need me, you know where I am."

Newkirk nodded and lay down, still in his uniform, knowing that he'd be too tired in the morning to put it on. With a sigh, he flung his good arm over his eyes, wishing that the painful ringing through his head would stop so he could go to sleep…he only hoped that he wouldn't see the little girl in his dreams…

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_"Hello."_

_Newkirk blinked, shocked to find himself sitting on a boulder in the woods. The air seemed eerie, like there was some kind of supernatural tinge to it._

_"Helllloooo!"_

_An image suddenly appeared directly before him, and Newkirk startled at the sight of a young girl, dressed in white, with an odd lighted outline to her body._

_"I'm Abby!" she said. "What's __your__ name?"_

_Newkirk's mouth opened and closed again, wordlessly._

_The little girl giggled, and the sound seemed to bring Newkirk out of his speechlessness._

_"It's you," he said, sounding shocked. "You're the girl who…who…"_

_"That's right! It's me!" she exclaimed, before doing a silly little spin, her white dress twirling around her. "I'm an angel now!"_

_Newkirk felt emotion trying to overpower him, and he swallowed convulsively. "I'm so sorry, luv," he said, before lowering his head. "It's my fault that ya…died."_

_Tiny hands suddenly touched his knees, and Newkirk reopened his eyes to see that she'd leaned forward, and was smiling. "I know! They let me come to say thank you!"_

_Newkirk blinked at that. "What?!" he exclaimed, the word suddenly reminding him that the explosion had rendered him temporarily deaf, and yet he could hear the little girl just fine._

_"I'm home, now, with my mommy and daddy," she said. "They both died last week when something really big and loud hit our house."_

_A chill went down Newkirk's spine. Now he knew what the little girl was doing outside, alone, in the woods…_

_"I couldn't find anyone to help me. But it's okay now, because mommy and daddy are right there!" _

_Newkirk looked to where she was pointing, but couldn't see anything. Suddenly, a faint mist seemed to float by about five feet away, and when Newkirk instinctively blinked, it was gone._

_Suddenly, the girl propelled herself into his arms. "They said that I have to go now."_

_Still in shock, it took Newkirk a few seconds before he realized that he was holding the little girl that they had accidentally killed, and that she was alive…or, at least, living in another world. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around the small body and hugged as tightly as he could without hurting her._

_She giggled, before pulling away. "Love you!" she exclaimed, before dashing away…and disappearing into thin air._

A hand suddenly touched his shoulder, and Newkirk jumped, eyes flying wide open. Blinking, he tried to catch his breath.

Hogan frowned, having not meant to startle him. "Are you okay?" he asked, realizing that the Englishman obviously hadn't heard any of the noise going on as everyone got ready for roll call.

Newkirk blinked at him, and was shocked to find that his face felt wet with tears. He quickly wiped them away with his right hand, before sitting up.

Hogan said nothing, not wanting to embarrass him. It was understandable for the terrible situation to affect Newkirk's dreams. "Can you hear any better?" he asked, deliberately speaking at a normal tone as a test.

Newkirk sighed. "What?" He asked, his head still pounding.

Hogan echoed the sigh. There was no point in repeating the question. "It's time for roll call."

Newkirk blinked, looking around the room as if expecting to see something unusual there, but not finding it.

Everyone filed outside, got counted, and pretended to listen to Klink's latest nonsense before going back inside.

Newkirk wasn't sure if he was lucky or not to avoid hearing most of Klink's rant…it was very strange, being hardly able to hear anything, though he was glad to see that the ringing had lessened a little. He headed towards Carter's bunk, intending to lie down again, but someone took hold of his good arm.

Turning, Newkirk saw that it was Hogan, who gestured towards his quarters.

Newkirk followed, knowing that the colonel probably wanted to check on his injuries. Obediently, he sat on the lower bunk and held out his arm.

Hogan sat beside him and unwrapped the bandage. The wound looked raw and painful, and the skin around it was starting to bruise. "How's it feel?" he loudly asked.

Newkirk shrugged, as if didn't bother him much.

Hogan didn't contradict him, knowing that the Englishman couldn't hear well enough to argue anyway. He started to rebandage the injury, when Newkirk suddenly spoke.

"Colonel?"

"Humm?"

Newkirk hesitated. "Do ya think Abby's in Heaven?"

Hogan looked at him. "Of course, a child that young doesn't truly know right from wrong." Suddenly, he stopped. "Abby?"

Newkirk nodded. "That's 'er name."

Hogan blinked. "And you found that out…how?"

"She told me." Newkirk blinked and suddenly looked up, realizing what he'd just said.

Hogan wondered if the bridge explosion had given Newkirk a concussion that he hadn't known about. "She _told_ you?!"

Newkirk sighed. "I 'ad a dream last night…" his gaze shifted away, as he remembered.

Hogan patiently waited. "And?"

"What?"

"AND?!"

"Oh." Newkirk gave a sheepish expression, before telling him the dream.

Hogan said nothing as he listened.

"Now, I know what ya thinkin', sir," said Newkirk. "An' I agree with ya. I don't believe in ghosts." He hesitated. "But who doesn't believe in _angels_?"

Hogan had to agree with him there. Angels had to be watching over them each and every day, as they went about their dangerous missions.

"I know it was a dream," Newkirk continued. "But…everythin' she said made sense."

Hogan nodded. "It _does_ make sense, and I'm glad that our little angel sent you that dream."

Newkirk looked up. "Ya believe that, Colonel? Ya think she really did?"

Hogan wasn't sure if he did or not, but who was he to burst Newkirk's bubble? The Englishman was a skeptic all the way, but this awful experience had rattled him to the core, and Hogan would agree with anything that would ease his conscience. "It sure looks that way."

"What?"

Hogan mentally shook his head. "I said, it looks that way."

Newkirk smiled slightly, and Hogan squeezed his shoulder before standing. "Come on, I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

With a nod, the Englishman stood. After Hogan walked out the door, Newkirk looked up to the ceiling. "I 'ope I can meet ya up there someday, Abby," he whispered.

The words, _'you will'_ floated through his head, which he noticed wasn't ringing as badly. With a smile, he left the room.

Up in Heaven, Abby looked down at Newkirk, and smiled back.

THE END

*sniff sniff*

I'm sorry for the sad subject matter, but this made a pretty good story, if I do say so myself! (LOL!) If anyone thinks that Newkirk didn't act like Newkirk…try being _him_ during this situation, and see how much _you_ act like yourself! ;)


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